Monday, Monday
by Aussiepupluvr
Summary: "Monday, Monday, can't trust that day" Looking back, the day had started like any other. They were all at their desk's, finishing reports, checking e-mails, and going over cold cases. He never thought the day would turn out like it had.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Just a very, short one-shot. Heard this song the other day and it wouldn't leave my head. With it out on paper, and hopefully out of my head, I'll have time to update my other two stories! Hope you enjoy!

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_Monday, Monday, so good to me;_

_Monday morning, it was all I hoped it would be._

Looking back, the day had started like any other. They were all at their desk's, finishing reports, checking e-mails, and going over cold cases. He never thought the day would turn out like it had. He could never of guessed. But why would he? Just that morning everything had been normal. A normal Monday. Ah, Monday, he had always thought of it as just another day of the week. Though Abby would probably remark that it happened because it was Monday. Could it be? No, Monday hadn't done this. A day couldn't be responsible or held accountable for the event's that had, and still were, being played out. No, this was his fault, and his alone. There was only one problem, he wasn't the only one being affected by his carelessness.

_Oh, Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee_

_That Monday evening you would still be here with me._

Slowly turning his head to look down at his companion, he saw the pale skin and bluish hue on their lips. One hand covered the still bleeding hole in their side, while the other never left the pulse point on their neck. He knew, at the moment they were alive, but his companion was slowly fading. For the first few hours he had tried to wake the agent up, but nothing got through the darkness that claimed them. Without emergency care soon...

_Monday, Monday, can't trust that day;_

_Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way._

Giving a loud sigh he looked up, and threw out a prayer to whoever maybe listening, that help would come in time. To save both of them. The mangled car gave no comfort. The engine was toast, crushed into the front with them. All the windows but the back had broken. With night starting to fall, it would get cold. Sure they had emergency blankets, water, and first aid supplies... in the trunk. Where he couldn't get to, considering he was trapped under the steering wheel. The front had trapped his companion's legs also. Since they were miles from any type of civilization, and someone must have wanted to play a cruel joke, they had no cell service. At all. There was no point in having their phones on, nothing worked. He sighed again, wondering why he hadn't paid more attention to the road. Lost in his own thought's he hadn't seen the curve, or the stupid deer, soon enough.

_Oh, Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be._

_Oh, Monday, Monday, how could you leave and not take me?_

The head on his thigh shook as the agent coughed. Glancing down he saw what he already knew he'd see. Warm blood joined what was already on his pants. Taking his hand off the weak pulse, he carded it through the agents hair and over their forehead. Slowly he leaned down, trying to ignore the jack-hammer pounding into his skull. Running bloody fingers through sweat damp hair he whispered, "Shh, hold on, alright? Just a little longer." The shaking got worse and all he could hear was the wheezing as his companion tried to breath. Squeezing his eyes shut he took a calm breath and tried again. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. _You, will, not, die_. Understand? You do not have my permission." He paused, as if to let the words sink in. "Remember that first day? I said you belong to me now? Well that means you do what I tell you. Meaning you don't have permission to go anywhere, or be anything, but fine. You got it, Tim?" It may have just been wishful thinking, or the exhaustion finally catching up to him, but in the confined space of their crushed car, Gibbs thought Tim's shaking slowed and his breathing even out. His last thought before unconsciousness finally wrapped him in darkness, was possibly, just possibly, they had a chance. Maybe Monday would be just another day.

_Monday, Monday, can't trust that day;_

_Monday, Monday, it just turns out that way._

_Oh, Monday, Monday, won't go away;_

_Monday, Monday, it's here to stay._

_- "Monday, Monday" The Mamas and the Papas -_


End file.
